|
|
|
|
Hargrove Annual
Letter 1991 (15th year)
The Hargroves Summary:
An
interesting year, in which we all went diving in Cozumel, Claire went to
Paraguay, Charles went to Europe, Belize and Australia, Jim went to Paris and
Stavanger, and Linda went to school. Charles
graduated from Rice, announced plans to “take a year off,” and proceeded to
carry out his plans. He moved his base of operations back to Bend o’ River,
then undertook a set of travels. First, he bummed around Europe for a month with
some friends from Rice. He tantalized us with a brief visit, then went to Belize
on an archeological dig for the rest of the summer. The nadir of the trip was
when he stuck an ice pick thru his finger, something he characterized as “the
dumbest thing I’ve ever done.” We tend to agree. (No permanent damage,
though.) After returning, Charles settled into a grueling routine
that consisted mainly of sleeping late, ignoring his mother, and watching
football with his father. He managed to fire off applications to grad school and
a few resumes. Archeological work is a bit seasonal. So, he was available when
Granny and Grandad offered a free companion ticket to Australia around
Thanksgiving. All in all, a very satisfactory year. Claire
returned to South America for Amigos de las Americas. She spent eight weeks in
Paraguay, which she describes as “the weirdest place I’ve ever been.” The
chief occupation in the country is smuggling, which leaves plenty of leisure
time. The pace struck her as a bit slow at first, but she adjusted and learned
to enjoy it. She developed a passion for maté,
the national drink. This year, she inoculated children instead of dogs. She
stayed with the local midwife and later with the former mayor. (They had a free
election in the city for the first time in decades.) She now claims Anthropology for her major instead of
Spanish. She is considering medical school, at least to the extent of taking all
the science courses she will need. She is finding her Sophomore year more
demanding, with both labs and term papers to keep her busy. Linda
began
the year protesting the Desert Storm war. The first half of the year was
emotionally trying. She quit her job and took a vacation in late July to visit
friends and family on the Left Coast. Since Jim was tied up attending a computer
graphics conference, she jumped at the chance to add to the list “Birds I have
seen and Jim hasn’t.” A boat trip in Monterey Bay yielded several marine
species, particularly a Black Footed Albatross. Even better, though, was the
sighting of four species of dolphins and a Humpback Whale. Alas! she missed the
Blue Whale seen by another boat. She also thrilled to Elephant Seals lounging on
the beach near Santa Cruz. Then on to Seattle and vicinity with her sisters and
mother, before returning to Austin ready to resume the role of a student. She is
pursuing a masters degree in Nursing, with the goal of becoming a Nurse
Practitioner. The biggest challenges were learning how to navigate the UT campus
and to use a word processor to write papers. Jim insisted on preparing several
templates to automate everything. Somehow, the machine
always managed to put the title in the middle of the first page of text. Linda
is getting the hang of it, gradually. Calls to Jim at the office have dropped to
about one per week. Jim, after
years of “conservative treatment,” finally decided to have surgery to fix a
herniated disk in his back. The results were a dramatic and immediate
improvement. Everyone got used to hearing him ask, “Why did I wait so long?”
He learned how to type standing up during the five weeks he was confined to the
house. He spent the time reading science fiction and preparing his computer for
Linda’s onslaught. Jim parlayed his status as a C++ guru into a trip to Paris and Stavanger to teach the latest computer
language. Trying to convey all the complexities of “object oriented
programming” in a two day seminar reminded him of Rice days and “trying to
drink from a fire hose.” Fortunately, the Europeans hadn’t heard that
expression and laughed at the right time. At least he got a chance to practice
French. He has decided it’s time to get serious about speaking it well, so
long as Maman Schlumberger is ready to
foot the bill. He expects to stay with SLB for several years. His original
estimate, “I think it’ll take me five years to straighten things out,” may
have been slightly optimistic. Changes: We
announce with grief the parting of the beloved Land Whale, our 1985 Suburban. After 104K miles, and mucho trips
hauling stuff to Houston and back, the LW was traded in on a more fuel efficient
vehicle. We also took on another cat, Strega, who lives in the front flower bed,
demands food every morning, but won’t let us touch her. We decided we needed a
pet door, and the next thing we knew we were completely submerged in major
renovation of the old homestead. Well, we need a hot tub. It’s good for your back. April 9, 1991, 25th Wedding Anniversary:A triumph for compromise and reduced expectations.November 1-3,
1991, Houston, Rice Homecoming: We started partying to the music of Ezra
Charles, a.k.a. Charlie Helpenstill. Conversation was difficult, but the dim
lighting covered up a lot of blemishes. We had to wait till midnite
to take in the old favorite, You
Better Hurry Up and Love Me, Cause I Keep Getting Uglier Every Day. Snatches
of talk linger in memory. “...a talk show called Feeling
Good with Dr. Joy!” “... finally getting to publish some research on
something I enjoy.” “... just a bit more gray.” “... keeps him looking
young.” “...after the company went under...” “... my first ex...” Football: Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.
At least the band was more entertaining than 25 years ago. And where else could
a ten year old boy and a small brown car be elected homecoming King and Queen?
The new Rice Fight Song, Louie, Louie,
is a distinct improvement over The Old
Gray Bonnet. Can you believe it’s been 25 years since Rice beat Texas? Cohen House. Another special time to renew old
friendships. A gang of five, without a single scientist, relived our days in the
Sixties. JFK; using a helicopter to win the greased pole contest; the protest
against the firing of Hugh Rice Kelly. Talking about kids in everything from
diapers to grad school. Another midnite. Sunday, still time for one last party, thanks to Diana
Parker. There were still people we hadn’t talked to. Rice people are fun. We
hated to leave it all behind. November 4, 1991, Dark o’clock, a pas-de-deux: Beep! Beep! Beep! Beep! Smack! Jim slides further under the covers to escape the room temperature he labels as “a few degrees Kelvin.” Linda calls it “too warm to be Ecologically Correct.” She turns off the clock and begins to dress. So we walk. Our route starts at the end of the cul-de-sac. It leads
up the hill ¼ mile to the first turn. Then it winds thru quiet streets, still
climbing, till it reaches the ridge top. Then it descends quickly to the Lost
Creek CC golf course, about the 15th tee. The night is quiet, broken only by
the low, insistent “Hu-hoo, hoo, hoo!” of the Great Horned Owl. A few deer
scatter as we approach. In the pre-dawn sky, Venus and Jupiter, their Allemande
Left of a few weeks ago complete, slowly separate in search of new partners. The
Old Moon smiles, bemused by it all. What a great morning! Jim thinks, “Who
would want to sleep in on a day like this?” We wish you the best of a new year . Imagine the plaintive accompaniment of Jay Unger’s Ashokan Farewell in the background. Peace. |
|
